The Yeoman Adventurer | Page 5

and cried triumphantly, "Not a stitch wet!"
CHAPTER II
THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS
I threw the jack across my shoulder and we started for the Hanyards.
Madam offered no explanations, and I made no inquiries. It was
obvious to me that the dragoons had gone on to the little hedge
ale-house, a good, long mile away, where the road from the village
struck into a roundabout road to Stafford. Here, in the "Bull and

Mouth," Mother Braggs ruled by day and Master Joe by night, and here
beyond a doubt the stranger lady had tarried while her father had gone
on with the horses to the nearest smithy at Milford.
There was ample time to get to the Hanyards, but still, for safety's sake,
we kept behind hedges as far as possible. She walked ahead, and I
followed behind, water oozing out of my boots and breeches at every
step, and the jack's tail flopping against my legs. Never had I gone
home from fishing with such prizes. What pleased me most was her
silence. It matched the trust in her eyes. Except for brief instructions as
to the direction, no word passed until we gained the Hanyards from the
rear, and I led her into the house-place unobserved by anyone.
"There is little time to talk," I began. "The dragoons are certain to come
here, as this is the only house between the inn and the village. Your
father is, you fear, a prisoner, and indeed it seems the only explanation
of his absence. I do not ask why. I gather that there is no purpose to be
served by your sharing his fate."
"Free, I may be able to help him. A prisoner, I should...." She stopped,
hesitating.
"My Lord Brocton?" said I interrogatively. For the second time her face
burned, and I saw in it shame and distress and fear. My lord was piling
up a second account with me, and for humbling this proud beauty he
should one day pay the price in full.
But it was time to act. I ran to the porch and roared out, "Jane! Jane!
Where are you? Come here quick!"
Jane came running in from the kitchen. She stopped dead with surprise
when she saw my companion, and could not even cackle on about the
jack.
"Now, Jane, do exactly what I say. Take this lady upstairs and dress her
as nearly like yourself as you can. It's good you are much of a height.
Pack her own clothes carefully out of sight. Off, quick!"

They disappeared upstairs, and I watched the yard gate with eager eyes.
No dragoons appeared, and in a short time madam and Jane were back
in the house-place. Jane had done her work well. The great lady was
now a fine country serving-wench, her shapeliness obscured in a
homespun gown that fitted only where it touched, her feet in huge,
rough boots, her yellow hair plastered back off her forehead and
bunched into one of Jane's 'granny caps,' and indeed totally hidden by
the large flap thereof, which in Jane's case served the purpose of
"keepin' the draf out'n 'er neck-hole" when she was at work in the dairy.
For my share of disguising, I now rubbed together some ruddle and dry
soil, and the mixture gave a necessary touch of coarseness to her hands.
Altogether she was changed out of recognition, even if, which was not
the case, any of her pursuers had seen her previously.
"Jane," said I, "her name is Molly Brown. She has served here two
years. Her mother lives at Colwich. Have you both got that?"
"Molly Brown--two years--mother at Colwich," said madam with a
smile, and Jane repeated it after her.
"Now, Molly," said I, with an answering smile, "Jane will start you
churning. It's an easy job. You just turn a handle till the butter comes.
Do not flatter yourself that you'll get any butter, but I'll forgive you that.
And, having learned from Jane how to pretend to do it, you need not
churn in earnest till the dragoons ride into the yard. Listen to Jane, and
you, Jane, for the next ten minutes, teach the lady how to talk
Staffordshire fashion."
"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said Jane, who was plainly bursting with the
importance of her task.
"First lesson, madam," said I. "'Rate y'are,' not 'Right you are!' It was
not Mr. Pope's manner of speech, but it will suit your circumstances
better. Off to the dairy, and leave the dragoons to me!"
"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said madam, and, our anxieties
notwithstanding, we both joined in Jane's rattle of laughter.

They went off to the dairy, and I began my own preparations. I
displayed the great jack in full view on the table, forestalling Kate's
housewifely objections by